Here Is Gone
by Moody Spasmodic1
Summary: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger in desperate attempts not to fall in love...
1. Return to Hogwarts

Chapter One  
  
PLEASANT SURPRISES  
  
Let me introduce you to the Head Girl of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Easily the cleverest girl in school. Though she wasn't very pretty. No, she wasn't blessed with good looks. Just a knack for reading and getting herself into things she could have easily avoided. Let me introduce you to me, Hermione Granger.  
  
Now, you must know, just one year ago, anyone who would have told me that I would fall in love with Draco Malfoy could be pronounced clinically insane. Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger have been sworn enemies since the day they met. Me, I was intent on keeping it this way, and I could have said the same for him. At eighteen years old, in my 7th and last year at Hogwarts, I was ready to face some major changes in witch-hood and in womanhood. But never, NEVER in all my years as a student at Hogwarts would I have expected something so drastic.  
  
My best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter: they were the only things keeping me alive throughout year after year of torture. That, and my dignity as a Muggle-born witch. This was the trouble when two people with similar pride tried to keep up an argument for seven years. His arrogant pureblood attitude and my stubborn muggle-born attitude held up against each other so well; it was the only thing that kept us from cracking under all the pressure. The pressure was tremendous: to pretend to keep hating each other. To pretend that nothing had changed in the slightest. Keeping up this childish attitude for so long was beginning to feel silly, but I was stubborn: I milked it for all it was worth for seven straight years.  
  
Now, my story truly begins six years ago, when I was first starting Hogwarts. But I'd rather not drag you back that far...we could start in my seventh year. I'm pretty sure you won't miss anything during that 6-year period.  
  
Even though SOMETHING changed during that time. Something cracked. Something was different, from my fifth year on; things were beginning to lighten up. But neither of us acknowledged this change, and neither of us felt the need to indulge it. We left things at the same dreadful note every year. He was never so important to me that I thought about him enough to really know how I felt. I decided I'd rather stick with 'terrible, egotistical, slimy ferret' than the fact of it.  
  
So we left it at that.  
  
It all began, so to say, on a rainy autumn evening that was September first...  
  
"Hermione, we've been looking all over for you!"  
  
I stopped for a moment to explore the grounds of the platform: two blurry figures were drawing nearer to me.  
  
"Oh, Harry, Ron, it's you!"  
  
"Well, who did you expect, Crabbe and Goyle?" came the distinct voice of a Weasley.  
  
I giggled softly and glanced once more at the Scarlet Steam Engine that was the Hogwarts Express. Then there came an unfamiliar tug at my heart. It was something like sorrow, but I didn't take the time to acknowledge it.  
  
"You're Head Girl!"  
  
A voice floated in from the back of my head.  
  
"What? Oh, yes, yeah I am. Is one of you Head Boy?"  
  
"Not me. Dumbledore already told me I wouldn't be Head Boy, last year..."  
  
"Oh yeah, Harry, because you NEVER break the rules..."  
  
"Shut up. I don't see YOU wearing a Head Boy badge, unless I'm mistaken."  
  
"Do you know who's Head Boy?" I had no time, really, for this silly argument.  
  
"No, sorry 'Mione. But me and Ron have got to get up onto the train, and you too, you've got to get to the Heads' Compartment."  
  
"Right. 'Bye, I'll see you guys later!"  
  
I made my way through long hallways, while my mind was swarmed with excitement: I wanted to know who it was I would be forced to share a common room with for the rest of the year - whoever it was, it was bound to be someone very intellectual: I couldn't wait to meet him. Or maybe I already knew him. What house could he be in? Maybe it could still be a Griffindor - Oh, I hope it's not a Slytherin...  
  
But it all came crashing down as, when I opened the door to the Heads' Compartment, I saw a thin, pointed face with sharp gray eyes grinning up at me:  
  
Draco Malfoy.  
  
No, no, I thought. It can't be Malfoy, it just can't be!  
  
"You're HEAD BOY?!" I said, just stupidly blurting out whatever was on my mind. Typical me.  
  
"No, Granger, I just popped in here for a little visit; couldn't resist, you know. First thing on my mind since I came, see. 'Oh, I can't wait to see the Mudblood, wonder if she's Head Girl?'"  
  
It took a moment for me to catch the sarcasm. Luckily for him, I hadn't noticed the spark of sincerity in his eyes. But before I could shoot something back at him, he spoke again.  
  
"And quit staring at me, Granger. When did I ever give you consent to make eye contact?"  
  
"Oh, like I'd ever want to make eye contact with you," I hissed, dropping my things on the floor rather violently.  
  
"That's all right, Granger, we mustn't lie now. Just about every girl in this school can't take her eyes off me. Now, what makes you any different?"  
  
He made himself comfortable on the large leather chair, as if he'd been stiff with nerves before I'd entered.  
  
"Two reasons, actually. One, not looking at you, Malfoy, is quite easy. I've had much practice. Two - "  
  
" - You've already GOT a boyfriend... Right, right..." he trailed off thoughtfully.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Well you spend so much time in that bloody common room with Potty and Weasel, Merlin knows WHAT you're doing..."  
  
"I do NOT have a boyfriend!" I countered angrily, keeping a wary eye on his wand pocket.  
  
He chuckled softly.  
  
"You're right Granger, don't know what I was thinking. Who'd want to be YOUR boyfriend?"  
  
"Somehow, I'm thinking...not you."  
  
"Oh, yes. And if I were you, I'd keep your eyes off my arse - you're not getting anywhere near it anytime soo - AARGHH!"  
  
I had pounced.  
  
"I CANT BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT!" I drove my fist into his face. "YOU'RE GOING TO PAY FOR THAT ONE MALFOY," Once more. "NEVER IN ALL MY LIFE..." One more time, just for the hell of it. "AND YOU'RE NEVER GOING TO SAY IT AGAIN. GOT IT? CLEAR?!"  
  
"OUCH! Oh yeah, crystal..."  
  
"Good!"  
  
Anyone who would have walked in on the scene would think their eyes were fooling them: Malfoy was sprawled upon the floor, looking flabbergasted. Both of us were breathing unnaturally hard, his hair was ruffled around his delicate face like he'd just been rolling around on the floor and my robes were slightly disshelved: it was sheer luck that no one had been around at the time; it would have been at the expense to both of our reputations. Having sex with your enemy in a train compartment was just not acceptable.  
  
"You're lucky your little Headmaster didn't walk in on us, Granger. You might just be out of a job," he sneered.  
  
Well of course, I had been thinking along the same lines.  
  
"You started it," I said simply, trying to stop myself from simpering in his direction: beating up Malfoy had been an unfamiliar and surprisingly pleasurable sensation. But he wasn't to know that.  
  
He cocked an eyebrow. After a while, as if dropping a concept he decided was stupid, his face fell in defeat, and he frowned.  
  
"Yeah, well, whatever."  
  
"Whatever, Malfoy." I began to unpack my things.  
  
"Whatever, Mudblood."  
  
The train ride to Hogwarts seemed to last forever. And I mean, FOREVER.  
  
Sometimes, being stuck in a train compartment with your worst enemy for a matter of hours can seem like years, even DECADES. The silence made it worse. Well, I really considered the matter, and, at least I didn't have to TALK to the slimeball. But it was awkward anyway.  
  
He was immersed in a book about Salazar Slytherin. From behind the book cover, I noticed one of his long, slender fingers pointed in my direction - the middle one to be exact - slightly sticking up from the top. Just enough so I could notice it, anyway. I could see him grinning.  
  
I was ready to pounce again - right ready to pounce, when...  
  
"Lunch time!"  
  
I ran up to open the door for the woman with the lunch trolley. She trotted in with an array of various food items - I chose some sort of chicken - indefinable, really, more of a hard, brown lump on a plate.  
  
Malfoy whipped out a large moneybag. It almost reached the floor, it was so bloody big. About three quarters of it was filled with galleons. It weighed him down.  
  
He scooped up a handful of them carelessly, like he had just so damn many, he really didn't care what he did with them. But then, I remembered, he didn't.  
  
"Two of those. One of those. Three of those. And...ah, yes, that, too. Yes. Here."  
  
He scrambled back to a chair, his arms full of too much food for one person to possibly consume at once, and I didn't know which was worse: the fact that he bought all of that food just to eat it in front of me, or the fact such a rich man could be such a wastrel with his money.  
  
"What is THAT?" I pointed to a green, lumpy, steaming object. The question that was burning inside of me just sort of, came out.  
  
"If you're asking for a donation, Granger," he said, still mercilessly stuffing his face, "you're not getting anything out of me."  
  
I ignored him. "Is that an artichoke?"  
  
"Ah, that's right, Granger," he said, brushing this aside. "I bet your family's been living on some MUGGLE shit. You've probably never tried anything along the lines of what a Malfoy has for lunch."  
  
"Oh, right. Smoked Artichokes. That all I'm missing?"  
  
I interested myself in my book bag, unnecessarily rearranging its contents, just to avoid Malfoy's glares that I could feel from a mile away.  
  
The train was rolling by mountains and lakes and plains, and it didn't show signs of stopping, or even slowing down, any time soon. I let out a groan when I had decided to land one eye on the clock.  
  
"Yes, Granger, we're stuck here alone for another six hours. Thank you for noticing."  
  
I glared across in his direction, and let out another sigh; my seventh year in Hogwarts, Head Girl, and what did I have to show for it? I was going to be stuck in a common room with Draco Malfoy for the next ten months. And I thought Dumbledore LIKED me. 


	2. The Prefect's Party

Chapter Two  
  
THE PREFECTS' PARTY  
  
Ever known one of those people who just tingle every last one of your nerves?  
  
"DRACO MALFOY GET YOUR BLOODY, SON-OF-A-BITCH ARSE OUT OF MY ROOM!"  
  
"No, I don't think I will, thanks."  
  
"WELL WHY NOT?"  
  
"I wanted to go over a few guidelines with you, that's all."  
  
"Guidelines?"  
  
"Yes, Granger, guidelines. Rules. Regulations."  
  
"For what, may I ask?"  
  
Malfoy hauled himself onto my bed, studied its gold and crimson linen for a moment before continuing on.  
  
"We're going to be spending ten months sharing a common room together."  
  
"I'm aware."  
  
"I'd like to keep these ten months hex-free -"  
  
"Bet you wouldn't."  
  
"- which means you're going to have to bide by strict rules, Granger. You know, watch yourself. One toe out of line, and you might just find yourself on the floor of this common room, in a full body-bind."  
  
He grinned for a moment, obviously savoring the moment: my face looked very ugly indeed.  
  
"Ah. Yes. Where was I?"  
  
"Guidelines? Rules? Regulations?"  
  
"Ah. Yes. You must not set foot in my bedroom - "  
  
"I'll do my best to fight the urge - "  
  
"- and if you do, you're facing some serious penalties."  
  
"I'll be sure to watch myself, then."  
  
"Right you are."  
  
I really think that's all you need to get the picture. I'm not particularly excited to investigate what life will be like with Draco Malfoy during the next semester. Though it will be somewhat intriguing to observe the life habits of a Slytherin, I'm still not overjoyed that that Slytherin had to be Draco Malfoy. Oh, well. I guess all the better reason to see if something positive can come out of all this. Though I expect not.  
  
I was making my way through the corridors, free, free from the common room until 8:00. I had pretty much the entire day ahead of me to enjoy. I wasn't going to let Malfoy ruin my precious time without him. And now, on my free time, my Hermione time, my Harry and Ron time, I was not going to include Draco Malfoy!  
  
It was very easy to keep my mind off of him as I spent the day with my best friends. Harry and Ron dragged me to the Quidditch Pitch where they spent the day knocking each other off their brooms, whilst I stood in the bleachers, cheering them on. I noticed that Ron's defense had improved a lot over the summer: Harry made about one fourth of the goals he sent flying in within an hour out on the pitch. We remained out there for what seemed like ages, and they mustered every ounce of energy they could to play for one more round, after the sun began to set behind the trees.  
  
I remained a third wheel as we walked back to the castle, and decided not to barge in on their conversations of The World Cup.  
  
"I expect the Wasps are going to be playing this year,"  
  
"Are you CRAZY?! The Wasps have such a weak defense: they've lost four out of five games this year!"  
  
"Yeah, well, they make a better team than The Chudley Cannons - "  
  
"Uh, guys...?"  
  
But I would have lost it if I was forced to be thrust into another round of conversation where I didn't understand half of the words they were saying. This wasn't a situation I was used to, mind you.  
  
"I think I'll meet you guys in the Great Hall. I've got to get ready for the Prefect party," I started back towards the castle.  
  
"Right, 'bye, then, I guess," Harry called after me, to which I replied with a wave.  
  
Somehow, the castle had a sort of dismal glow to it - whatever was left of the sun, bestowed itself upon the Whomping Willow, that, if had not been murderous, would have been gorgeous.  
  
Ah, yes, the Prefects' Party. It's actually for the Heads too, but I don't like to refer to myself and Draco Malfoy as one item; rather, "Myself and Draco Malfoy" than "the Heads." Why? Because it wasn't something I was used to, nor something I wanted to get used to. And besides, it was true: it was for the Prefects, too.  
  
By the time I had reached the common room, it was empty and dark. I fumbled around in my closet until I pulled out something that could pass for 'party wear'. But I wasn't exactly skilled in the concept. As an eighteen-year-old girl, Hermione Granger didn't spend her time partying. She spent it in the library. Or studying.  
  
I made my way towards the Great Hall, which echoed with drunken yells and loud music by the time I had arrived. I had to shove past a stumbling Malfoy, carrying a six-pack of butterbeer (the man had a lot of determination to try and get drunk off of the stuff) until I found my way to Harry and Ron. They, too, seemed to be acting a little off.  
  
"Hey Harry, Hey Ron," I said, and something at the corner of Ron's mouth caught my eye: drool.  
  
"Oh Hey, Her-min-on-ne!"  
  
"Um, yes, hello Ron – I - well, you know guys, I think I'm gonna, you know, see if I can find Ginny..."  
  
I really just wanted to get away from them. Something about drunken people bothered me. I thought Harry and Ron had the sense to at least ACT sober around me.  
  
"OK, Herm-inny, we're gonna go get some of that stuff..."  
  
And they headed off together in a simultaneous, dangerously swaying stride towards the table with the butterbeer.  
  
But I paid no attention and tried to find someone in the room I could invest in intellectual conversation with: someone sober, at least.  
  
I eventually did find my way to Ginny.  
  
"I couldn't find a date for this party," she said heavily.  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Why don't you ask Seamus Finnigan?" I said finally. I knew who she had wanted to come with, and I also happened to know he didn't have a date.  
  
"Really? Do you think he'd accept?"  
  
"I don't know, but even if he says no, at least you'll have asked."  
  
"Good thinking. I'll be right back!"  
  
And she went off in Finnigan's direction.  
  
I stood by the table, waiting patiently for Ginny, when I realized that she wasn't coming back. The pretty Weasley girl in a pink dress caught my eye across the room and smiled nervously; her fingers were laced around the neck of Seamus Finnigan. So, I decided to thrust myself into the crowd, maybe hoping to catch someone's eye by the end of the party: this was particularly difficult for a girl arriving in her school robes. But I was able to steal a few before I got so tired that I left. And at 9:00, too.  
  
In the common room, I spent the next three hours reading. If I had been keeping track of the time, I would have surely limited my reading time. But I immersed myself in a book, and when Hermione Granger is reading, a rampaging hippogriff could hardly get her attention. Therefore, I didn't hear the knocks on the door until the intruder's third attempt, at which they were so forceful they knocked it down.  
  
It was, I should have known, the only person who could possibly access my common room, Dumbledore in exception: Malfoy.  
  
In the initial shock of having my door knocked down, it took me a moment to realize this. But I frowned and glared at him as if I'd known he was coming.  
  
"What was that for?"  
  
He walked in to my bedside and said nothing. I still noticed the stumble in his step before he took a heavy seat on the foot of my bed, and stared at me in a way I would have enjoyed, except for the fact that it came from him.  
  
"What could you possibly find so fascinating?"  
  
He scooted himself up the bed clumsily to the point where his long legs were situated around my body, in a way that made me feel very trapped.  
  
"You."  
  
I tried to squeal out of this position. "What are you doing?! Leave! NOW!"  
  
"You're not going ANYWHERE." He placed his hands firmly down on my shoulders. "Tonight, you're MINE."  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you Malfoy?"  
  
But it didn't take a genius to figure that out: he was drunk. And before I could stop him, he threw himself on me and buried my face into the pillow. His eyes sparkled with pure lust; he was sliding his hands up and down my arms patiently, as if ready to attack any moment.  
  
And then, he kissed me.  
  
But it wasn't sweet or adoring, or anything you'd expect a first kiss to be, in the least. It was hungry, and vicious, and violent. His mouth pressed down upon mine, pinning me to the sheets with his hands.  
  
"Malfoy, please..."  
  
But I was too weak to fend him off. In a deft move, he tore off my nightgown and pressed my body to the bed. His icy hands let themselves wander down from my shoulders – and they sent a chill through my body. There was no use struggling anymore, he was the stronger one, and practically twice my height.  
  
"Hermione..." he said softly.  
  
His hands were now upon my waist – massaging my stomach in a soothing way. I was beginning to cry, in my terrible fear of what he might to do me. My wand, sitting on my bedside table, was just conveniently out of my reach.  
  
And just as I thought the situation was hopeless, a sharp voice sounded from over by the door, or what was left of it anyhow. Though I couldn't see who had entered, I knew who it was, and, for the first time in my life, I was, in a word, grateful, to see Severus Snape at my door.  
  
"Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy! Stop this instant!"  
  
I felt his body stiffen against me.  
  
"Mister Malfoy you are going to come with me now... Miss Granger, are you all right?"  
  
I nodded, but he wasn't to be fooled: my entire body was shaking.  
  
"Miss Granger I will accompany you to the Hospital Wing where you will spend the night. End of discussion." His voice was very cold, but maybe I just didn't interpret it right: I didn't easily recognize concern in Snape's voice, I guess. Or he was very good at hiding it.  
  
He left me to the room where I could dress. I was still in shock, and I had forgotten, in the gratefulness of having been saved, that I had been, of course, naked, in front of my savior. Who happened to be a Hogwarts professor.  
  
But my mind was on other things: I tried not to sound like an idiot, but it was too late: by the time I left my room, I was choking on my sobs in very strange noises all the way to the Hospital Wing. 


	3. The Upshot

CHAPTER THREE  
  
THE UPSHOT  
  
The next morning I woke up, and the one thing, one Draco Malfoy, that had clouded my thoughts and my dreams, seemed to have left my mind. Until I had gathered myself, and remembered where I was. And why I was there.  
  
But I didn't think I even had any more tears to shed. I always found it easier to cry, because when you're crying, you have no time to think about it. You just...cry. But now, when I can't seem to do it, I just don't seem to know how to cry anymore: I have to face the reality of my problems, and my life, and just how to live with myself.  
  
I was humiliated. And scared. I felt nervous and confused and helpless all at once. I never wanted to see Draco Malfoy's face again. Seeing him in the first place had been unpleasant all the same, but this was different. I'd have to fight to keep my face straight every time I heard his name, or saw his face. What he'd done to be was horrible and frightening, and I don't think I could live another day knowing that I had fallen victim to something so awful, so crude, from the one person I despised most.  
  
I heard the hushed voices and quickening footsteps in and out of the hospital wing, muffled by the fluff of my pillow. Though I don't think they were what woke me up. Oh, well. The day was bright and sunny already; I couldn't have fallen back asleep if I'd tried. But I had to admit, clouds, wind, some rain might have added to the mood of the day. But, no. It just had to be sunny. Which made me feel even worse, ironically.  
  
"Miss Granger, are you awake?" Madame Pomfrey said tentatively, leaning over my body to tousle my sheets a little, before smiling at me and returning, not smiling, towards Dumbledore, McGonnagall, Snape, and Malfoy, all of whom were gathered in the middle of the room, waiting for something, maybe someone – oh, right. Me.  
  
"Dearie, your professors have got a few questions for you. Are you feeling up to it?"  
  
"Yes," I said unnecessarily. As if I could have refused, anyway.  
  
They all situated themselves around my bed. Malfoy, one of the last, finally sat down with the rest, as far away from my bed as possible, in a chair, looking much like the defendant, and I the plaintiff – all seeming to add to the seriousness of the situation. The last thing I needed.  
  
"Miss Granger, we have received confirmation that you and Mister Malfoy were involved in sexual activity last night," Dumbledore spoke finally, calmly.  
  
"Professor, I –"  
  
"Against your will."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Mister Malfoy forced you to your bed against your will, in a drunken fashion."  
  
"Yes." The humiliation of the situation was rising in my cheeks. I could feel it. The rest of the room could see it.  
  
"And you tried to call for help."  
  
"I.... Well, I couldn't, professor."  
  
"I see," he whipped his half-moon spectacles off the bridge of his nose and inspected them carefully. "Exactly how long had Mister Malfoy held you prisoner until Professor Snape came in?"  
  
"I don't remember."  
  
"Thank you, Miss Granger," he said, smiling at me, though I didn't feel like returning it. "Mister Malfoy."  
  
The blond man looked up at his name. He'd been staring at the floor while Dumbledore had been inquiring me: not, I concluded, as an expression of anxiety, just boredom.  
  
"You admit to having sexually assaulted Miss Granger?"  
  
He returned his gaze to the floor.  
  
He said nothing.  
  
"And, if you wouldn't mind telling us, Mister Malfoy, how many drinks you had last night, at the Prefects' Party?"  
  
He mumbled something inaudible to the floor that sounded oddly like "seven".  
  
"Seven drinks, Mister Malfoy."  
  
The man said nothing. And finally, slowly, he nodded.  
  
"Thank you, Mister Malfoy," he said. He did not smile at him. "That will be all. We are to discuss your punishments in my office, tomorrow evening. Eight o' clock sharp. Miss Granger joining us, if you will," he added, to which I nodded. "Until then, Mister Malfoy, I don't want to see you anywhere near Miss Granger or her bedroom."  
  
I followed Malfoy's gaze to Dumbledore, which read distinctly: 'Like I'd ever WANT to go near her.'  
  
And with that, Dumbledore left the hospital wing, McGonnagall and Snape following suit.  
  
"Are you OKAY?"  
  
"What did he do to you?"  
  
"Drunk bastard -"  
  
"You didn't DO anything with him, did you - ?"  
  
"I heard he slept with Pansy Parkinson just last week!"  
  
"Wow, did he hurt you?"  
  
"That's just sick..."  
  
Harry and Ron were obviously worried about me. When they had received the news from Professor Dumbledore, they got permission to leave class to visit me. They, my professors, and of course, Draco Malfoy and myself, were the only ones who knew what had happened.  
  
"You guys, I'm fine. And no, Ron, I didn't do anything with him. Why would I?"  
  
He looked relieved and highly embarrassed at the same time. The pink of his face had reached the tips of his ears before I said anything more.  
  
"And besides, Dumbledore has banned him to go anywhere near me or my bedroom until we've figured out his punishments."  
  
"Think that'll stop him?" Harry looked concerned, too. It was getting harder for me to keep a positive look on things, especially how the look on his face made my heart sink.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
I tried to retain my usual bossy and huffy mien, but it was thrown off when my voice started shaking. I knew they could see straight through me.  
  
"'Mione, just know we'll always be here for you. If that bastard comes near you again..."  
  
"No, Harry, he won't. I promise."  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"Just...just don't interfere with this, OK?"  
  
"OK, Hermione."  
  
Harry looked over at Ron. He didn't say anything.  
  
I silently prayed that Ron wasn't going to go and do anything stupid, as I made my way, at 8:25, to Dumbledore's office. I carefully and cleverly avoided the path that took me through the dungeons. That way, I wouldn't have to face Malfoy until I absolutely had to. I wasn't looking forward to it.  
  
"Miss Granger, thank you for joining us."  
  
I nodded at my Headmaster and sat down in a seat far, well as far away as possible in such a small room, from Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Now. Mister Malfoy, I do not think we have to go over your charges again."  
  
He nodded, looking at something out the window.  
  
"So I think you will find it is only fair that, with the given, your privileges as Head Boy of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have been removed."  
  
It was almost surprising how little this seemed to mean to the boy. Again, he nodded. Dumbledore paused to wait for some sort of reaction.  
  
"Ahem, yes, well, you will also find that we will be selecting a new Head Boy, and that no less than two hundred points have been taken away from the Slytherin House."  
  
At this, the boy looked up.  
  
"Yes, Mister Malfoy. Two hundred points. And if I see you again anywhere near Miss Granger or her friends, that number will change."  
  
The expression on Malfoy's face was priceless. I would have laughed if not for the seriousness of the situation.  
  
"T-two hundred points, did I hear, Professor?" he managed weakly. I could tell he had to muster up a lot of that Malfoy charm to get that out so sweetly.  
  
"Yes, Mister Malfoy. And I won't repeat myself again. Two hundred points from Slytherin House. You may go, Mister Malfoy."  
  
His blue eyes followed a stumbling Malfoy all the way out the doors. They fell upon me.  
  
"Miss Granger, I would like, if you don't mind, a detailed reencountered version of what happened last night."  
  
Well, the truth was, I DID mind. Very much. But I couldn't shake the feeling of those big, blue eyes boring into my head. Dumbledore knew I wouldn't want to. I had no choice, you see.  
  
"I...went to the Prefects' Party."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And...and I came back."  
  
"I gathered as much, Miss Granger."  
  
"Oh. Yes. Sorry. I came back, and he came in my room, and forced me to my bed."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And...and he took off my nightgown."  
  
"..."  
  
"And...and he undressed, and...well, he trapped me with his arms, and I couldn't move -"  
  
The words sounded worse when I heard them for the first time.  
  
"And Professor Snape came in just as he was – just as Malfoy was – "  
  
I choked on my words. No, not crying. My throat was just dry.  
  
"Thank you Miss Granger, you may go."  
  
And without another word, I gathered my things and left the room. I felt him watching me out, just as he had done to Malfoy.  
  
I was very lucky to know my way around the castle. Otherwise, I think I wouldn't have been paying enough attention to where I was going to notice taking a wrong turn into the Slytherin common room, perhaps the hippogriff patches. Several times along the way I had to ask a nearby portrait which way I was going, and I was lucky enough to run into Parvati Patil, just as I was turning down the steps to the dungeons. She eyed me closely before I turned around.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
"Oh, hi Parvati!"  
  
"What were you doing down there? So late?"  
  
Her large, dark eyes narrowed.  
  
"Oh, I just, well, it's late. I'm tired, I didn't really know where I was going."  
  
"Oh."  
  
She blinked.  
  
"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."  
  
"Right. Yes. See you tomorrow. 'Bye!"  
  
I scurried off in the direction of the Heads' Common Room and finally focused enough to identify what it was that was keeping me from concentrating. Who was going to be the new Head Boy?  
  
I wasn't even sure that it felt right returning to that bed. Sleeping there again would bring back all of the feelings I had last night: I wouldn't feel safe. I'd be vulnerable and afraid. And if one day sharing a common room with a boy was going to be like that, I didn't know if I could handle ten months.  
  
With that, I think I made up my mind. I stopped in the middle of the hallway and immediately turned around, back to Dumbledore's office to resign as Head Girl. 


	4. Rude Awakenings

CHAPTER FOUR

RUDE AWAKENINGS

"Are you quite sure, Miss Granger?"  
  
"Yes."

"Very well, then." Dumbledore searched in his desk for something. "Take this, if you will. Please sign here."

It was a contract. I took no time to think it over and jotted my name on the dotted line.

He looked it over carefully, then stuffed it into his pocket.

"Very well. You are free to go."

He didn't watch me on my way out.

I spent the afternoon out on the lawn with Ginny. She and I really treasured our bonding time – of course we loved Harry and Ron – but it was fun, every so often, to have that special 'girl time'. You see, being best friends with two boys meant I rarely used that term. And I liked it.

She exhaled easily.

"Are you all right?"

I followed her gaze to the cloudless sky and looked back at her.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I mean I think so," I frowned back at it.

"That was quite an ordeal he put you through," she said. Her fingers wandered through the grass and collected the dew. "You were raped, Hermione. Nobody can seem to get that into your head."

"That wasn't rape, Ginny," I said angrily. "He didn't do anything to me..."

"Blimey, Hermione!" her face flushed. "He _would have _if Professor Snape hadn't come in!"

"But the point is, he did." I wanted to end this conversation as soon as possible. I knew he'd raped me. But I didn't want to admit it.

"So?" she turned on her knees to face me, and dropped her voice once she saw that people had begun to stare. "Hermione, listen to me. You need to stay away from him."

"Ginny, why would I go near him?"

"I'm not saying we don't trust you, Hermione," she buried her face in her hands and rubbed her eyes wearily. "All I'm saying is we want you to be safe. That was scary, Hermione."

I didn't feel authorized to comfort her, seeing as I was the raped one. But I put my arm around her shoulder.

"It's really fine, Gin, I'm over it. Draco Malfoy will never come near me again. Mark my words."

Ginny nodded, but I was not quite so sure of myself.

"Transferring schools?"

"This is excellent!"

"Never thought I'd see the day – "

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Creevey's big blue eyes widened dramatically. "I heard Snape talking about it with Dumbledore."

"Where do you think he'll go?"

"Durmstrang, presumably," piped in Parvati. "Where else could they send a twit like Malfoy?"

Harry and Ron laughed. "Bet he couldn't stand the humiliation," said Ron, beside himself with delight.

"Well," said Harry, sitting down by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room, "Hermione will be pleased, all right."

Which is right when I walked in.

They all leapt at me the moment I stepped through the portrait hole, causing all of my books to fall to the ground. When I bent over to pick them up, Harry and Ron scrambled to do it for me. They threw them hastily into a highly disorganized pile on the floor next to me, and sat me down in a large chair when I reached to arrange them.

"What's going on?" I made another attempt to escape, but Ron held me back.

"You're going to want to stay for this," he said excitedly.

"Well, is somebody going to tell me?"

Parvati leapt into the circle. "Malfoy's leaving Hogwarts! For good!"

Ron shot her an exasperated glare. "Yes, well, we tried to tell you but you were, you know, at the Library and.... well, aren't you going to say something?!"

"I..."   
The truth was, I was confused. You know when you've wanted something for SO LONG, and I really had waited for this, since the day his icy cold eyes met mine; and when you finally get it, it's just not so thrilling anymore?

"I...I can't believe it." I grinned. "He's leaving?"

"Yeah!" Harry looked relieved – my anticipated reaction had come a bit late. "Leaving Hogwarts! Now you'll never have to worry about him laying a finger on you again."

Parvati gasped. "That's right!" She dropped her voice to a low purr. "He raped you, didn't he? At the Prefect's Party? What happened? What did he –"

Ron glared at her.

I laughed, nervously. "This is just.... it's wonderful. I've wanted him to leave from the moment he walked in."

The others laughed. "Well, who hasn't?" Lavender Brown giggled. "He's so awful...and his father's not exactly a jolly bloke either, is he?"

"He's rather frightening," Parvati whispered, shuddering. "I mean, he's a Death Eater, isn't he?"

"Good riddance," Lavender spat.

And on it went.

Though I was, without a doubt, and most certainly, definitely, and undeniably, no ands ifs or buts about it, glad that Malfoy was leaving, (I had, after all, been wishing this were so from the beginning), there was something strange inside me that almost, dare I say it, foiled my happiness.

I sat on my bed and thought about it for a while. I just couldn't get it. I was finally getting what I'd always wanted. Now Malfoy would finally be permanently out of my life. Forever.

What _had_ I been thinking?

I was completely happy that Malfoy was leaving, and there was no reason, no reason at all that I should be anything but. He was never anything to me but a repulsive clump of rubbish stuck to the bottom of my shoe.

Now, Malfoy was leaving and I would have perfectly clean shoes.

It made perfect sense at the time.

Very early the next morning, I awoke to a very distant sound. Being the light sleeper that I am, I could not fall back asleep. I just sat rigid in my bed as the sound grew nearer.

Footsteps.

But they were not frightening ones. They were graceful and light across the creaky wooden floors. They seemed to be proceeding towards my bedroom door, but eventually I convinced myself I was just being paranoid, and slid back down into the covers.

Through the gold and crimson sheets, they still echoed in my ears like a slow and steady heartbeat.

Frustrated, I sat back up again and fumbled for my wand.

'Lumos,' I muttered. My wand pointed at the door, while I rubbed my eyes.

When I opened them, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. But the blurry figures of an open door and a tall blond man standing in it were clear.

I clutched my sheets tightly when I realized who it was.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here? Your first late-night visit to my bedroom wasn't enough?"

I could distinguish his signature smirk even as he crossed over into the dark side of the room.

"Shut up," he growled, "I don't enjoy being in your bedroom this late any more than you do."

"Well, we're on the same page then."

"It would seem that way." He was searching for something: I could hear him going through my things.

I jumped up.

"Then get out of my room!"

He looked like a deer caught in headlights. He whirled around, holding my journal.

"Granger? What are you doing in my room?"


	5. HalfEmpty Glass

CHAPTER FIVE

I was startled.

"Come off it, Malfoy!" I stuttered. "GET OUT OF MY ROOM, AND GIVE THAT BACK!"

He narrowed his pretty little eyes at me, ready to say something nasty.

Then he looked down at his hand.

"What's this?" he spat, thrusting the journal into my chest. "And why are we standing up? This isn't my room. TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON, RIGHT NOW MUDBLOOD."

"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S GOING ON, YOU CAME INTO MY ROOM AND STARTED LOOKING THROUGH MY STUFF, THAT'S WHAT!"

His face froze.

But magically, in a matter of seconds, it returned to normal.

"You're not to tell anyone about this, Granger," he snarled, pushing me and walking slowly forward. I stumbled and tried to get out of his grasp, but I couldn't. "You're to keep quiet and pretend I was never in here."

"Do you really expect me to do that?" I said bravely.

"How silly of me to think you'd let another chance to foil my reputation slip," he said easily, almost laughing, though he was still startled. He looking revoltingly at the journal in his hands, a piece of trash to him no doubt, and tossed it behind him.

"What, do I have to pay you?" He looked sort of desperate. But he maintained his cocky nature.

"You can keep your money," I said nastily.

He looked highly offended.

"Don't look at me like that, Granger, I was just being a gentleman," he said smoothly. "Trust me, there are many ways that I can ensure your trust. I'm sure you'd prefer just taking my money to any of them."

"Look, Malfoy," I said, starting to panic, "I just want to know what's going on. _Why _are you in my _room_?"

He took a deep breath and stuck his wand in my face.

"I'll tell you this once again and for the last time, so get it straight, Mudblood. You aren't to say a word," he poked my forehead with his wand, "to _anyone_."

I pulled back. "No," I said defiantly. "No. Something fishy is going on here, and I –"

"_I warned you, Mudblood!"_

I gasped and started to run, but before I could say a thing, my legs gave out, and I knew nothing except the pain that consumed me.

And then, there was darkness.

"Miss Granger," came a frantic and nasal voice from the back of my head. "Miss Granger, are you awake?"

"Yes, I'm awake," I tried to say, but I was too weak. I desperately tried to give them a sign, something, anything to communicate. But no noise, no movement. I began to wonder if I was dead.

"She won't awake, Headmaster," the nasal voice spoke again. "No, give her a couple of days."

Distantly, I heard a painful sigh and some familiar, but slightly shaken voices.   
"Professor Dumbledore, when can we see her?"

"Will Hermione be all right?"

I tried to scream out to Harry and Ron, "Yes! I'm all right _now!_ Please, Harry, Ron, can you hear me?"

But all of a sudden my thoughts echoed, and fell into nothingness. I felt my mind twirling, and I sunk into oblivion.

Days had gone by, me in utter frustration, trying to communicate to the outside world. I was left alone with my ignorant thoughts and, let me tell you, they were beginning to get on my nerves. I felt like nobody could hear me or understand me. If this wasn't death, I shuddered to comprehend what death would feel like.

And finally, after what seemed like years (and for all I knew, could have been), I felt a tug at my nerves, and I went into a jerky fit of movement.

A small light from the corner of my mind grew bigger and bigger…until…

I could just make out a group of people staring down at me. Their mouths were moving but I couldn't understand what they were saying. My mind slowly stopped twirling and I felt a wave of pain across my body, like a thousand needles stabbing me all over. It was a rather painful awakening from numbness.

I let out a groan.

"Miss Granger…"

"Miss Granger, can you hear me?"

"Yes," I hadn't spoken in what felt like so long, my voice sounded strange to me.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes," I said automatically.

Then, "No."

"What hurts?"

"Everything hurts…"

Professor Dumbledore turned to the stout and eager old woman standing beside him. He asked Madame Pomfrey to bring him something and returned to me.

"Do you remember what happened to you?"

I breathed. "No…Yes….No, no, I don't remember…"

"Think."

"I…I think…I passed out."

"Do you know why?"

"Malfoy…in my room…"

"Yes, we know, we've already spoken to Mister Malfoy, he has no recollection of the incident whatsoever."

I yawned and tried to sit up, but swooned and fell back down into the pillows.

"I think you had better get some rest until you're ready to be questioned, Miss Granger, you've had a rough few nights."

I hadn't the strength to object, so I closed my eyes and turned on my side, and slept.

"So, he breaks into your room in the middle of the night, steals your journal and then suddenly he's got no idea what's going on?" Rons face was contorted with confusion.

I walked swiftly ahead and Ron and Harry struggled to keep up with me. "Right," I said wearily. I had grown sick of retelling my story, not only to the administrators but to every student who walked past. "I told him to come off it and he acted like he was being set up or something. The strangest part is that he looked sincere."

"I don't know, Hermione," Harry said quietly. "He's been so infatuated with you lately. He can't seem to be away from you. First he rapes you, now he's breaking into your room at night and reading your journal – "

"No, Harry, it's not like that." And I truly didn't think it was. It was obvious he had other plans while he was in my room last night, but hadn't gotten to pursue them. "He was looking for something, rummaging through my things. I just doubt that he had gone through all of that trouble and risked being caught, just to read my journal. No, he was looking for something else…"

"Well, don't get too wound up about it," Ron said. "If you do he'll come back and set a dementor on you or something, he seems to have it in for you, Hermione. He's leaving for good next week."

"I wasn't planning to do anything," I said defiantly, holding the door open for Harry and Ron as we entered Transfiguration. When I closed the door and walked in after them, the room fell silent.

Everyone was looking at me. I went to take my seat, but then I noticed Professors Dumbledore and McGonnagal were talking quietly, no doubt about me, standing in the front of the classroom. They beckoned for me to come over.

"Miss Granger, we'd like you to come with us," Professor McGonnagal said calmly. Then she turned to the class. "Class, I will be out of the room to attend some business, so I have managed to get Professor Twiddledum as a replacement until I return. I expect you all to treat him with respect, and if not, I will be undoubtedly hear about it."

She left without a word, and a tall, lanky, dark-haired man emerged from the corner, and began to speak to the class. I followed the Professor out the door and into a strange room that I'd never seen before, working hard to keep up with her swift pace.

Finally she stopped abruptly and turned around to face me. She motioned for me to sit down on the couch opposite her and Dumbledore. She took a deep breath and I sat very awkwardly, fidgeting.

"Miss Granger, I would like to tell you something," a desk drawer opened itself behind her and she extracted a golden chain from it – attached to it was the Time Turner she had given me in my third year.

"This is – "

"The Time Turner," I whispered. "But why –"

"I found this in your room this morning, Miss Granger. I hope you'll forgive me for going through your things – "

"Of course…"

"But it was for an important cause. We have come to believe that the night Mr. Malfoy was in your room, he was looking for _this._" She twirled the golden chain around her fingers.

I took a moment to take this in. "But why would Malfoy – "

"Mister Malfoy does not remember ever entering your room. We aren't positive, but Professor Dumbledore and I think," she glanced over at Dumbledore, her eyes pleading, "We think that Draco Malfoy is being possessed by Lord Voldemort.

"We believe that Lord Voldemort wants to use the Time Turner to return to the moment 18 years ago when he killed Harry's parents. Now that he is, presumably, stronger and more powerful, he wants to go back in time and kill Harry."

I was shocked. I looked at Professor Dumbledore and tried to sit up, but he lightly sat me back down.

"Miss Granger, we know this is tough for you, but we'd like to help you," he said calmly. "We will ensure that no harm will come to you; the Time Turner can no longer be in your possession. We are sending it to the Ministry of Magic so they can keep it under close watch there.

"We want you, however, to keep safe. That means no leaving the castle alone, and alert us whenever something suspicious happens."

There was an awkward pause.

"We…er…also need you to promise us that you will not tell Mr. Potter about this."

"Why?"

"Because…" Professor McGonnagall sighed, but Dumbledore cut her off.

"Because we don't want any panic," he said easily. "Do I make myself clear?"

His blue eyes bore into my head and I was silent. I knew Dumbledore wanted me to be safe…God bless him for that. I knew that no harm would come to me so long as the situation were under his watch. But I was still worried, somehow. Something twinged in my brain. It was an undistinguishable feeling I'd had all day, and it wouldn't go away.

I realized I was getting lost in my thoughts. Professor Dumbledore had lowered his glasses and was looking at me intently.

"Perfectly," I said.

Professors McGOnnagall and Dumbledore nodded and gestured for me to leave. Trembling, and knocking over several books and objects on the table as I stood, I left without a word and proceeded to Transfiguration.

Authors Note: Hey everyone! I'm so sorry I didn't update until now…I had a serious case of writers' block, and I got a ton of homework recently, but the sad thing is this: it ("it" being my writer's block) is going to get a lot worse following the cliffhanger at the end of this chapter. See, I never planned any of this. I'm not one for plots, really, I just write what I feel and let it go, which is why most of my stories are plotless, pointless, with a small bit of undistinguishable humor thrown in. (:-P) What I mean is, after this chapter, I only know vaguely where I'm going, I have no plotline to follow, or anything, which is a bit scary, because we're so deep into the story…So, in short, it may be a while. Just warning you.

I always used to hate it when authors didn't update their work for like, MONTHS at a time, and there was no way to contact them or anything…So, I like these little author notes so that you guys know I'm still alive and I haven't been infected with some sort of paralytic disease that disabled me to update…And you can also e-mail me…I LOVE to talk with people on and discuss their interests with them and such…so, go ahead and e-mail me please!

If you can't access it on the site for some reason, I'll give it 

OK, I'm gonna go now…Hope you like the chapter, and I promise it won't be too long, but I won't get too full of myself…nobody's really HANGING to see what happens next. Well there's me. Hehehe…


	6. PLEASE READ

READ THIS! IMPORTANT!

Dear faithful fans,

(Yeah right),

I'm really sorry to do this to you, but this is not a new chapter. It's more of an…er…apology letter.

Just informing all of you that Chapter Five has been MODIFIED. I apologize for the inconvenience. See, I took out part of the ending, because I changed the course of the story (for now). Please give the ending a quick check, and I'm sorry once again.

Unless I have absolutely NO life for the next few weeks (which is entirely possible) it might take a bit of time to make chapter Six. (Well, chapter 7, I guess, considering this is a chapter, :D) I just don't want to vomit out another piece of crap like the last time, because I know that must be very disappointing and aggravating to you guys. I won't take too long, in fact, if I stay on the computer all day I could finish it in a mere 3 hours.

OK! Thanks you guys and sorry again!

Moody


	7. Chapter Six

AN: Yeeeah, it's been a while.

Please welcome me back with showers of reviews. XD

CHAPTER SIX

That week could very well have been the longest seven days of my life. While my schedule seemed to be on turbo-speed, my mind was drifting slowly through a play-by-play encounter of the events of the months before. And for some reason, I found myself looking over at Malfoy more often than not. It was like I was looking for something in his icy eyes, something I knew could be found if he just let somebody in. It was increasingly difficult to keep focused in class; it was all beginning to seem like a dream to me, one that you wake up from and try desperately to remember, to grasp the details, to figure out the point.

I was far from the point when my thoughts were jolted back into a harsh rapping noise on my desk.

Professor Snape's lips curled into a twisted smile. Something about his burning eyes, though, told me that he was not quite beside himself with amusement.

"Miss Granger," he drawled, snickering quietly but never shifting his gaze. "I was wondering if you could enlighten us."

Though the room was deadly quiet, I could see several Gryffindors at the far end of the room, feeding me answers and mouthing undistinguishable things, but Professor Snape gave them a deadly glare. I searched wildly around the room for a clue as to what Snape had been talking about, but I was hopelessly lost.

I fell silent in defeat. Professor Snape had humiliated me, and caught me off guard in his class for the third time that week.

"I suggest," he spat at me, grabbing hold of my desk furiously and causing me to lean back in my chair, that you pay more attention in my class, Miss Granger. That's three times this week. One more disruption to this class and you're being sent straight to the Headmaster's office."

I nodded, feeling like I would burst into tears if I had to endure his cold stare for another moment. Right then, he turned his head to the class and said, "Will anyone kindly inform Miss Granger what page we were on?"

Several people snickered. But I didn't think it was funny at all. I was on the verge of tears, when a shy voice spoke up from the other side of the room.

"We were on page 438," said Malfoy.

Snape looked at him sharply, and he was silent along with the rest of the room.

When nobody spoke, Malfoy continued.

"We were learning about augmentation potions." He said boldly, rather loudly, fully aware that the whole class was watching him, hoping to intimidate them out of doing so. He never once looked at me, though.

Professor Snape looked quickly at me and then, "Thank you, Mister Malfoy. Miss Granger, you heard me. And I would advise that you pay _extra_ attention to this lesson, because I'm assigning you three rolls of parchment on the importance of paying attention in class, on my desk, tomorrow afternoon, no more, no less."

He turned swiftly and began telling the class in an irritated voice to turn the page and read about the making of augmentation potions.

If it weren't for the other, slightly less amusing things on my mind, I would have thought Snape's attempt to discourage me was funny. I actually found writing Snape's essay fun, because he and I both were fully aware that this was a subject I usually had no problems with. But for some reason, lately that hadn't been the case. However many times I tried to swallow that lump in my throat, it wouldn't budge. My stomach was doing somersaults all that week. Something was bothering me; so much so that it almost made me sick a couple of times.

It seemed like the more I tried to brush it away, the harder reality came down upon me, and it just made me feel even sicker. I was beginning to worry myself, and my friends. Harry had said, "It's just the aftershock of the whole thing. It's normal that it'd hit you so hard." And Ron had said, "It's all bloody Malfoy's fault. He makes me sick, too."

It had been several days since I had seen Malfoy anywhere around the school. The last time I'd seen him or heard him speak was in Potions class. Not that I'd been wondering or anything, but I figured he had gone home to pack his things for Durmstrang. And then a terrible image of Lucius Malfoy torturing his son for being expelled, popped into my mind.

My eyes shot open (I hadn't even known they were closed) and I desperately tried to forget what I had just imagined. He deserved whatever his Father did to him, anyway. But I knew what I was saying was wrong. I still felt strange about the whole idea of getting someone expelled, anyway. Sort of guilty.

I got up from my chair and left the common room. I decided to take a walk outside the castle, in hopes of revitalizing myself in the cold night air, and clearing my mind of all things stressful. I hadn't had such a good idea in weeks, I thought to myself.

But of course, as I should have known, the right to privacy was just not an option here at Hogwarts. And who should be the one to violate that right but the King of Violators himself.

(AN: Anybody get that joke? Please tell me somebody got that joke.)

Fear flooded me, and I thought of running the other way. But he was already approaching me with that swift and cocky walk of his. I stood still as a statue, watching him come closer, and closer…

And just as I screwed up my face in disgust to say something really nasty to him, he walked right by me, and left me standing in the moonlight, looking back at his vanishing figure.

The next morning in the Gryffindor common room, there was a group of 7th year boys watching a Muggle news report on a small television. They were all laughing at the Muggles who were desperately trying to calm viewers down about the reported "flock of owls soaring over the cities, dropping bits through the streets that exploded when they hit the ground".

"I'll bet it was your brothers, Ron," Harry said, smiling broadly.

Ron blushed. "They did say they were planning something big for Friday the 13th," he said, grinning, but slightly worried-looking. "You don't think they'll get caught, do you?"

"Fred and George?" Harry glanced at the television. "Not a chance."

I walked over to the group and glimpsed at the television. "What have they done now?"

Ron looked over at me. "'Mione! How come you're up so early? Breakfast doesn't start for two hours!"

"I could say the same to you," I said.

"We were at Quidditch Practice," Harry said, yawning and clutching his broom for support. "We've been up since four."

"Angelina's a mad woman," Ron said, nodding.

I laughed. "Well, you guys woke me up, if you want to know the truth," I said, looking at the television. "How did you guys get a muggle television, anyway?"

"So that's what they call it," Ron said curiously. "A fourth year brought it in, a muggleborn, his parents sent it to him last Christmas so he could watch his muggle shows, or something."

"Ah," I said politely, staring at the television, but not listening to _it_ either. "Well I think I'll go."

"Where?" said Harry. "Like I said, breakfast doesn't start…"

"I'm just taking a walk," I said with finality, giving him a quick smile to assure him I wasn't angry, before closing the portrait hole.

Throughout the day, the stories coming from the muggle television, which kept most of the Gryffindors in all that Saturday, got progressively more extreme. It sounded like Fred and George to me. I had nothing to do except walk around the castle, every once in a while dropping in to the common room to ask about the Muggles. I felt bad for them, sort of. They really had no idea what Friday the 13th meant – a Wizard's April Fools Day. To them, it was a day of horrible misfortune, bad luck and rubbish like that - but it was silly, really. There might have been one black cat that passed by someone on the day of his death 50 years ago, but that's all.

So deep in thought, I accidentally bumped into a large object in my way: my senses came rushing back to me. Stepping back and coming into focus on what was in front of me felt like opening my eyes.

But it was just the fountain. I knelt down to look into it, and the water shone like gold. Knuts and Sickles were sprinkled all around it, every ignored wish and whim sitting at the very bottom. The fountain bathed in sunlight waiting for hopeful witches and wizards to foolishly toss their devotion into the water, 'til it sank and settled among the others, where it would surely live on much longer than they.

And suddenly a voice called from behind me.

"Granger?"

My heart froze, and I spent a little too much time deciding whether to turn around. I found myself face-to-face with Draco.

My eyes turned hard and I turned away. "What do you want with me?"

I could feel my insides doing acrobatics.

"It's not like that," He said viciously.

I whipped around.

"Then what DO you want?"

I realized I was close to tears, so I quickly turned away. All of my words seemed to fall flat on the floor. Everything I said felt wrong, and stupid, and I could never bring myself to tell him all the things I thought about telling him. When I saw him, everything in my head would go blank for a moment, my stomach would drop to the floor and my feet would glue themselves to the ground. I couldn't struggle or resist him in any way. I could only stand and watch from the sidelines as he did whatever he felt like doing to me, and I had no say. I was a pushover, I was worthless and helpless, and I hated myself for it. But I hated him even more.

I turned around.

He was my weakness. My greatest fear. My breaking point…

And I grabbed him and kissed him.

Draco stumbled back in surprise and grabbed hold of my waist, pulling the both of us down onto the grass, wrapped up in a sweet and passionate embrace. I felt weightless and extremely short of breath. His strong and protective arms were probably the only thing keeping me up: He floated me. Draco kissed me harder. His lips pressed down on mine and curved into a roguish smile as he pulled me closer to him. His long and delicate fingers finding pleasure and interest in playing with the back of my t-shirt, he held me tightly as if afraid I would be gone when he looked up.

I felt safe and warm. He was in me and above me and beside me and all around me. Goosebumps traveled up my body and tickled the back of my ears.

He then kissed me softly and looked up. Before either of us could realize what we were doing, he took my hands in his and began kissing my neck. Trailing kisses down my arms and fingertips slowly and adoringly, he lingered for a moment and held my face in his hands, squeezing my waist tightly. His lips were soft and sweet and as he slid his hands down my back, he pulled me even more dangerously close to him.

We broke off breathing heavily and looking anywhere but into each other's eyes. Draco took a deep breath and brought his mouth right up to my ears.

"Gra – Her – Hermione," he breathed. "He's got me."

I sat up and looked straight into his eyes.

"Who?"

Draco remained silent for a moment and then, for the first time, a genuine expression of fear crossed his face, if only for a second.

"Him. He's got me. He's controlling me. It explains the diary and the – and the time-turner, and the…the party…" He looked around wildly and spoke in a whisper as if he knew he had little time to speak. "It's why I haven't been myself lately –"

I was horrified. I wanted to pull back but I didn't want to believe it.

He looked back at me piteously, but his expression faltered and changed almost instantly. He pulled back violently and staggered with a horrible pretense of malice written over his obvious fear.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

I started. I became instantly defensive.

"What's wrong with ME?" My voice began to quaver and I regained composure quickly so as not to let Malfoy interrupt. "What's wrong with YOU? You've been taking advantage of me this whole time. I understand now. I wondered what was more important to you! I can't believe I thought, for a minute, that you had changed. That you were any different. You're just another faithful servant to the Dark Lord. I can't be a part of your plan," I pointed my wand threateningly at him.

"You can't come near me. You ca – you can't come anywhere near me. I can't believe I trusted you. You're horrib –"

I had been so passionately into my speech that I hadn't noticed that Draco had made his way closer to me. Before I could finish my sentence he grabbed me again with a hungry look in his eyes and swept me up in his arms. His lips were an inch from mine when I returned his exciting looks with glares and pulled back aggressively.

"Leave me alone." I said. "Just, get the hell away from me."

I looked at him once more and ran off, tears filling my eyes and from the blurry corner of my eye I saw him fall to the ground in defeat. My heart sunk and I stopped, but I didn't turn around. I kept running straight in the direction of the castle.


End file.
